


A Witch Twist

by Auraion



Category: Bayonetta (Video Games), Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: Alt!Power, Gen, Umbra Witch! Taylor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-30 02:07:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21420421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auraion/pseuds/Auraion
Summary: Instead of Triggering, Taylor Hebert reaches out and breaks through the barriers between worlds, calling forth a new entity to help her fight against the injustices of her world.
Relationships: Taylor Hebert | Skitter | Weaver & Colin Walis | Armsmaster | Defiant
Comments: 12
Kudos: 117





	A Witch Twist

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So I have been seeing a lot of stuff around lately that kinda made me want to post again. So you guys get another thought exercise oneshot. (The hold my beer impulse is strong. Strong enough to make me want to write after so long.) I've been thinking up characters that would be good matches for her cannon description, women who technically match her appearance but are far from gawky awkward. Bayonetta kinda came up and with some creative.. alterations? This came about. I have one more story that works with the same challenge guidelines in the stash so maybe I'll be motivated enough to post it one day.

And suddenly she was no longer in the locker.

There was a jarring pain that shocked her out of her torpor when she landed flat on her back looking up at a sunset colored sky.

It took god knows how long to find the strength to look at the place she'd come from but the locker looked at her feet, the edges of the portal a burning violet and it's dark rank insides staring back at her. Some instinct made her move, scrambling back on clumsy limbs as the portal closed. Barely avoiding taking her foot with it.

Without a dark scar in her view she found herself looking out over a panorama unlike anything she'd ever seen before... a literal sunlit paradise.

Had she died? The question burned her as she stared out over endless gardens of flowers and mirror lakes washed with gold light and magnificent spiraling archways. Statues dotted the gardens, busts of stern elderly men, enchantingly beautiful women, cherubic children all made of white marble and gold, most wearing armor, but all of them depicted with wings...

Was this heaven?

She stared in blank shock.

It was so beyond her comprehension that she didn't notice the angel behind her until the blade had been plunged through her back. A sharp scream was forced from her throat as she craned her head back to see a marble knight, his sword, taller than even she was, vanishing from her view. She slumped back, unable to look away as the sword was roughly withdrawn.

It merely turned away.

She knew then. This wasn't heaven. In a world where the Simurgh existed. Why would the angels that looked so much like her even be kind?

Bleeding out in this gold washed hell she stared at the sky and wondered if it wasn't a plot. A continuation of her torment or maybe even a mercy from it. She'd considered it before, taking her own life. The only thing that had stayed her hand had been the thought of her father and how he'd cope. He wouldn't. He'd follow her faster than she could leave. Even though they barely spoke.

So she'd never gone through with it.

But now she supposed something had seen her wish to die and granted it.

The thought made her laugh.

_ **/Is this really what you live for?/**_

The voice? A voice? Whispered in her ear. Nothing lingered nearby. The Angels ignored her bleeding out.

"Yes." She told it. Choking on the word. It hummed neutrally.

_ **/far be it of me to interfere./ **_ it mused _ **/but you are something not even I could wish away from this world./ **_

Taylor didn't even begin to comprehend the words when she noticed it, the darkness oozing into the world around her. Some distance away the angels stirred, glacially slow as they turned in her direction. Something rasped across the ground around her and slithered over her limbs.

_ **/you, young witch, are something thought lost to time. A legacy of a powerful race. All things work in balance. And forces are stirring.../**_

On a distant horizon something moved. Something she had first mistaken for a white mountain shifted and suddenly she wasn't looking at the sky, she was staring in mute horror as wing upon wing unfurled to reveal a shape scared into the genetic memory of Earth Bet.

_ **/... we can defeat her you know./ **_the voice murmured mutinously. _ **/we have nothing but time, time to grow strong. And together we would be even stronger. Show me, young witch. Show me your will./**_

In spite of all the confusion and fear, something old kindled in her body. A lit of flame she hadn't felt since her mother died. The voice said she could defeat the Simurgh. To do that she'd need powers... and that meant...

"I can be a hero?" It was her oldest, most closely held wish. She wanted more than anyone to be a hero.

_ **/you would be more than a hero, we would be a goddess./**_ it assures her and maybe it was the blood loss, but she felt it, a rush of something that swept through her body and suddenly she knew the words.

"Great lady of the underworld, hear my call." Her fingers dipped into her own blood as she rolled over, her vision going white as she leaned on the wound. By this point it was a miracle she could even do that much. She couldn't feel her legs.

A shape was burned into the cobblestone path she'd been laying on as she drew out a circle and then a star. Then a crescent embracing the side.

"By pact of the moon, a daughter of night summons her servant." This wasn't her voice, something rode in her mind like a master and if she'd been anything but about to die she'd have been scared.

"Dark and light, a balance disturbed. Let forth your mysteries that we might restore order to the world." And then there was a name. The presence riding in her mind abruptly withdrew, but she could feel it there, lurking just below the barrier. What barrier she couldn't tell, but it was knowledge akin to breathing.

_ **/speak it/**_ it whispered distantly. The ritual, yet to be finished, boiled the air, angels had turned, their massive pale queen looming behind them as they began to advance, but time had slowed, the world in it's entirety focused on this single moment like it held the fate of the world in its hands. _ **/speak the name!/**_

And just like that, in the space of that ephemeral moment, she saw it. Saw beyond the veil, at something twisting and whirling through space and the destruction that spiraled into the cosmos behind it...

** "#########!" **

________________________________________

When Taylor woke it was to the sounds of her Brockton Bay.

________________________________________

She honestly hadn't been looking for trouble when she fell into the open manhole. Heck. She'd never even seen it until she was already tumbling in. Still she recovered and landed like a cat before looking around to find herself outside a bar.

Underground

In Brockton Bay.

She knew she should have just left, but the crimson flicker in the corner of her eye yelled portal and she summoned her armor, her hair sliding over her clothes like they didn't exist and the jeweled butterfly mask forming from magic as her hair became a veil down her back.

She opened the door and inside was a empty bar. It owner the only one in sight stationed behind the counter in the back.

"Hmmm, you're a young one." He hummed, his voice deep. The kind of deep that you found in Barry White songs. "Good thing we met then. You still have a lot to learn kid." She approached the bar, sliding onto a stool and resting her chin in her hands. She was confident in the protection she had but the demon in her ear whispered that this being was no threat. Dangerous. Oh hell yes. But not a threat to her personally.

"And you are?" She murmured in the demons voice. The sound was generally more mature and like her outfit confused her age.

"Rodin, owner of the gates of hell." He gestured at the bar around them and then culled the cord on the curtain behind the bar and it slid away to reveal and armory. "And purveyor and merchant of all things angel killing." He finished standing back to watch her as she gaped, a smug look on his face.

"You know about the Angels?" She found herself blurting and he just gave her a look that was likely more patient than she deserved.

"Know. Have known. Will know." He mused. "You're really new. I haven't seen an umbra witch in centuries, you may very well be the first in your world." He continued and the Name struck her like a shit.

"Umbra witch?"

He came up short, stopped and finally _Looked_.

The sunglasses slid down his nose as his mouth went slack and she caught the faintest shine of red in his eyes before they where pushed up again.

"You don't know who you are? What you are?" Suddenly neither of them seemed very sure of themselves. She merely shook her head rather than speak as the man shifted uncomfortably for a moment before seemingly deciding something.

"Since time immemorial there have been agents of balance in earth. All the earths." He started. "Lumen Sages, generally men, represented the interests of heaven on earth. And the Umbra Witches, mostly women, who acted as their natural counter. They generally have rich and storied bloodline and usually keep to their enclaves... for the only obvious sign of power to be this far from Europe and to be a new witch, it tells me something is very very wrong with this world."

She'd nodded mutely in agreement.

They'd sat in silence for a good long moment before the man coughed and reached under the counter, pulling out a package and setting it almost reverently on the bar before her.

"Tell you what. She'd want you to have these." He pulled back the cloth and revealed a quartet of shinny burgundy large caliber handguns. The moment they were out in the light they caught her attention and held it. Something in her ached as she saw them. With a trembling hand she reached out and drew a finger along the barrel of one and it felt like her powers were singing.

"Scarborough Fair." Rodin muttered reverently. "Once I knew a very powerful Umbra Witch. Her Name was Bayonetta. Not her real name, she didn't remember it for the longest time, but Umbra Witches rarely shared their real names outside of close family. Still. These belonged to her. They were her constant companions for most of her life and they will serve you well going forward. They'll feed off your magic to fire bullets. You can charge them to empty the reservoir in one go and you can use all four individually with thought triggers." He deftly showed her how to pull them apart, clean them and put them back together. He handed them to her but he needn't have tested her, she knew them already. They sang in her hands and when they clicked into her armor at her feet and hands she knew they should have been there right from the beginning.

"If you want upgrades you'll need to bring me halo's and records. Angels carry them, and since you're an angel killer, it shouldn't be a hardship to acquire them. Any time you want to test your skills I have an arena out the back, feel free to go nuts." She looked at him, eyes fever bright, and he'd never seen another soul that looked so much like her. It wasn't until he stood at the edge of the arena watching the new witch slaughter Angel constructs like she'd been born to it that he realized that he couldn't just leave her as she was now. Madama Butterfly didn't choose just any witch. That particular Demon had appeared in every world, and every timeline, but only in the hands of the witch with the biggest potential of them all.

He looked down at the protective crest in his hand and decided it was only right that she have it. The ruby winked back at him.

He told her instead that it was a traditional crest of the Umbra Witches and that she should never take it off.

He also stopped her before she left, and in a low voice, called her Bayonetta. The name was a title, of one witch to another. And the Bayonetta he knew, the woman he'd helped across worlds before, would approve of the fire hidden under this ones gaze.

And as she left the gates of hell with a new book of potion recipes, Taylor also left with a superhero name. She was going to do that name proud.

________________________________________

Of all the changes wrought by her contract, her personality wasn't something she'd considered. But if there was one thing about her powers, it was that she had no choice but to get comfortable with herself. Her armor wouldn't let her shy away. Before she'd inherited Scarborough Fair, she'd had no weapon but her projection. While she could use the smaller ones safely enough, anything large required a greater portal, and greater portals required more hair...

And since her costume was her hair...

You got the idea.

She'd tried wearing everything and anything under her armor in the hopes it would work, but her construct had a hatred of clothing. It didn't tear them up, but it did hide them until she rescinded the catsuit entirely. It was very much all or nothing and Taylor had been mortified.

She'd been forced to come to terms with a lot about herself in the last few weeks, but Madama Butterfly wasn't cruel. Her construct had been her biggest supporter. For all that she was a demon, she had the hands of one who had guided many witches before her. Many girls from many backgrounds. She knew just what to do and say in the whispers of her mind to make using her powers that little bit easier.

She'd guided her as she fought until the moves became her own. She guided her hands as she fired until she could hit the monsters every time. And with her inherent magic she learned the way into Purgitorio. The world as she'd known it was only one layer of reality. They'd known about other worlds existing, but there were things much closer to the surface on their world than they'd thought. On one side was Paradiso. The sunlit paradise she'd almost died in. It was everywhere, just under the surface but far enough away that it took power to rip open a portal. It had been pure chance that she'd landed there from the locker when on the other side was Inferno.

Sandwiched between them was the mortal realm, chaos, and it's shadow, Purgatorio. The two were side by side and close enough to touch. What happened in one usually effected the other and if you had the knack, interacting between the two was child's play. Mind, she was still restricted by buildings and could be detected by some sensors so in spite of the fact she was effectively invisible and one step out of reality she needed to be careful.

But between the confidence she had no choice but to develop and the freedom to slip her chains and venture into Purgitorio, she was feeling much better than she ever had before. Madama Butterfly had been good for her, even if it did mean contracting herself to a demon and a beauty mark. (She'd insisted it be on her shoulder, the marker of the contract. Just because there were apparently no other people around to recognize it didn't mean that she'd show it off to all and sundry.

In light of her changes she felt herself leaving the bullies behind. Rather than be antagonized she was never there, she could slip in and out of the world at a moments notice and to be honest, she knew now that Emma was damaged and lost and confused and there was no benefit in feuding over it.

So she ignored them.

And the attempts to torment her dwindled away till Emma looked harried and Sophia looked deranged and stressed and Madison made excuses not to be around them.

She didn't need any sort of revenge. They were all so broken they'd just do it to themselves.

________________________________________

Her first brush with the Heroes of the bay had been quite accidental and very anti-climactic. She'd been out on patrol. Purgitorio was full of Angels. For whatever reason they filled the bay. Her job as an angel hunter was paying off from the sheer amount that inhabited the world. Rodin had been good as his word and traded the Halo's she collected for supplies and upgrades. Her favorite had been the books. When he'd realized how alone she was in this world, he'd gone to other reflections of Vigrid and found all the knowledge he could. Old Grimoire taught her the Magic's not inherent to Madama Butterflies use. Potions shaped as lollipops replenished her mana and helped her recover from injury. Warding tricks now protected her home and her father and she enjoyed the tales, the stories and the knowledge contained within.

Still. She'd had much practice in the killing of angels and while she'd been doing so one evening, three months after gaining her powers she'd seen a corona of fire on the horizon. Getting closer, safe in Purgitorio she realized it was a cape fight. A few capes lingered on the rooftops, mounted on giant mutant beasts, watching as the Protectorate leader, Armsmaster, tried to combat Lung. She hung back. Not ready to get into a fight with them. She had better things to do than play cops and robbers when there was an infestation in the bay that played for much higher stakes.

It wasn't until the Hero was nearly overwhelmed that she finally intervened, and even then, she did something very different.

"Well well well, what do we have here?" A touch of charm and a hint of magic and she had their attention. Then she had to struggle not to laugh at who looked more outraged and confused as they spotted her lounging like a pinup model on Armsmaster's bike. It was child's play to make the tinker tech vehicle not so much accept her, as ignore her. Their response to her presence had been entertaining though.

**"Oo'er Y'oO?"**

"That's Protectorate property, step away from the vehicle!"

Their fight, was derailed abruptly as Armsmaster stopped fighting and pulled back so he could watch the both of them and Lung had been surprised but was recovering fast. Instead she sat up on the seat and turned her body just so before clapping her hands together delightedly.

"Oh, I know! It must be my birthday!" The demons voice made her sound British. "I've always wanted a Dragon! I wonder if Rodin would let me keep it in the storage yard? I'd have to beg, of course." She clasped her hands together and pushed them up under her (admittedly padded) breasts and in her most innocent voice (which given her current illusion of sex on legs, wasn't very) begged.

_"Oh Daddy, I've been such a very good girl, may I have it? Please?"_

And maintained eye contact with Armsmaster the entire time.

He stiffened like his Armor had locked up and didn't move while Lung growled. She just laughed and tipped off the back of the bike, punching through into Purgitorio it looked like she had teleported when she jumped over the duo and reappeared on their other side.

**"Oo'ere ou ar, 'll 'ill Oou!"** Lung growled out around his mangled mask and standing in the middle of the street she did what was easily the stupidest thing she'd ever done, letting the Demon take over she did a twirl and posed, pushing out a costume enhanced derrière and introduced herself. 

"Why, I am the Beautiful, sexy and incredibly charming, Bayonetta!" She blew a kiss and Lung, who had been shrinking just a little while no one was fighting, suddenly went down like a ton of bricks, revealing the Protectorate hero standing behind him, Halberd outstretched. He'd finally recovered enough wits to lash out and whatever he'd used had put the villain out like a light.

Bayonetta scoffed in mock outrage.

"Well then. You're no fun." She pouted at the tinker and dropped herself into Purgitorio once more.

"Lung is a S rank parahuman. Not a pet, and if he'd gone on a rampage he'd have destroyed half the city." The man justified loudly to the air. Not sure where she was but clearly looking for her. "It was more efficient to take him down while he was distracted."

She reappeared behind him and crouched beside the villain, going so far as to poke him in the side as he was reduced to his human form. Armsmaster spun around.  
"Stay away, he's still dangerous!" He snapped, but she wasn't having any of it.

"Oh tosh. He's out like a light. And here I hoped he'd be able to keep up! And you!" She gave him a cheeky smirk. "I'm starting to believe that efficiency is just another way of saying no stamina." Not knowing how to respond to that he just primed a foam grenade and dropped it on Lung. Bayonetta laughed as she quickly flipped out of range and with another twirl she used her foot to trace a circle in the air and backed through. Armsmaster looked around, frantically scanning for an attack that would never come. But as she prepared to leave a thought struck her and she doubled back.

One of the things she'd started to do since getting her powers was wear perfume. While in costume it prevented others from identifying her human scent. She passed by the Hero and drew back her hand, a glow forming to coat it as she lashed out and swatted his backside. The man jumped and went on guard once more but she laughed and vanished off into the night.

She had much more important things to do than tease the man as she caught the signs of incoming Angels.

Yes. Much more important.

________________________________________

After she left Armsmaster called for backup and took Lung into custody.

The capes on the rooftop retreated in stitches.

A small flying camera recorded the entire spectacle and it's owners posted it to PHO.

The forums exploded with speculation and interest as they awarded points for style.

And then it was Assault who posted the last picture of the night. An image of Armsmaster from behind as he directed PRT troopers.

Completely oblivious to the glowing hand print that had been left on the back of his armor.

It was taken down a few hours later by Tin Mother of all people, but the damage was done. Bayonetta had made her Debut in the Bay and for better or worse. She'd made the most outrageous introduction she could.

Armsmaster wasn't allowed to forget any time soon.

________________________________________

The day after Taylor spent her time hidden away in her room concocting potions and making magical candy. She didn't see the explosion that she'd accidentally made of PHO until Monday. People talked around her about the new parahuman of the Bay and she couldn't help but feel a little shy over the attention. She'd made the effort to obscure her age and it was coming back to bite her, especially when the moderators decided that she was old enough to not moderate the more adult threads like they did for younger people and wards.

Either that or she'd done something to make Tin Mother mad. The Moderator of Moderators appeared to be unhappy with her cape persona for some reason.

There was also the matter of 'the post'. In the meet ups section someone had tried to get her attention. "To the lady Butterfly" it had read, it proposed a meetup, but she had ignored it along with many other attempts to draw her out.

Come the end of the week and she had begun to ignore the forums entirely. She didn't want to deal with the sexualised crazy that came as a consequence of her power and honestly it didn't matter anyway. Her job was to kill angels. Whatever hero work she did was completely down to opportunity as she moved from one battle to the next.

It was on Friday that she decided to leave school early and venture toward the more affluent areas of the city. She'd sensed the Choir during Gladly's class and gone to follow them, because no angel appeared for nothing. The powers behind them always had a plan.

It wasn't until she noticed the little girl being pulled into a van that she figured out what the angels were trying to make happen. So of course she protested.

Strongly.

One of the latest developments in her powers had been the Witch Time.

If she could dodge a mortal strike at the very last second she could blow wide the doors on her power and slow down the world around her. It had a limited use and she needed to work to power it after it started, but it was a powerful skill that for a little while, made time and space her bitch.

So wasn't it a surprise to realize that not only was she in that slowed state, but there was 'another' her running parallel. It almost made her stop chasing the van with the kidnapped girl before she noticed differences. One copy of her followed it left, the other right. They rushed through the city, combating angels sent to delay them, meeting up where paths crossed in Purgitorio and splitting again.

Their actions finally became one when that parallel world collapsed and Bayonetta remembered the events that occurred.

Well well well... if this wasn't a parahuman ability at play she didn't know what was.

After that she focused on the girl any time the timeline split and her other self automatically went the other route. The armed men that had taken her seemed to know something was stalking them unseen, but not what, as they took orders from earpieces.

It wasn't until they were about to go into what looked like a bunker hidden in the basement of a parking garage that she struck.

In the mirror world her shadow stomped the entire van and that world collapsed. She followed it inside as they pulled the girl out and carried her to a small room.  
She looked on wide eyed, she knew, knew that there was no hope, it was written all over her face and for a moment Bayonetta's heart twinged. But she shook herself and marched deeper alongside her new shadow. The girl was put into a room. She left a marker in Purgitorio so she could find her way back. They marched wondered on into a larger hangar where angels attacked. She was on the right path as she dispatched them and followed the last limping cherub to an office on the lowest floor when she felt it.

The hands of something vast pulling away from the base, leaving more heavenly host like shed scales.

She focused on the point where the power had been concentrated but only found a deathly skinny sort of man in a dark costume frantically trying to access something on a computer as her shadow tore holes into the mirror reality.

It took a good long moment to realize that this being had been touched by something from Paradiso and whatever had been blessing him, the villain, Coil. He knew it was gone.

Honestly, shooting him was more a community service as she ended both his timelines. When he didn't get back up in either she nodded to herself and ignoring the computer, went back to her marker. It was the work of a second to bust open the door and the girl inside was understandably shocked to see her. Bayonetta cheerfully swept her up and strutted out the door, safely hidden in Purgitorio. Leaving a leaderless base of confused mercenaries behind.

________________________________________

It was a few hours later when Rodin entered his bar from the back and found a twelve year old girl sitting at the counter humming to herself. He was instantly on guard before the caught himself and studied the girl closer.

"You're not a time traveler are you?" He asked doubtfully with eyes narrowed behind his glasses.

The little girl, Dinah Alcott, just gave him the biggest most innocent smile she could manage and said nothing.

________________________________________

It seemed that by interacting with Lung and Armsmaster that first night she'd flipped the top off whatever had been preventing her from interacting with them before. Parahumans now knew what she looked like and sought her out whenever she appeared outside of Purgitorio. Before she'd occasionally ventured into the streets, looking for all the world like she was just an eccentrically dressed woman going about her business, mask aside, and a hint of magic and distraction meant no one noticed her.

Now however, whenever she was out in costume she stuck to Purgitorio because if she walked around like she was a normal person (heaven forbid) she would get swamped by admirers, people with phones, or perverts. Although the last group was more wary of her after she sent them packing with a few well placed shots to make them dance.

Oddly enough, the most insistent of her stalkers wasn't any old person, but Mr Protectorate himself.

Armsmaster had begun turning up at the slightest showing on her part. Even as the city started falling apart when a bomb Tinker went on a rampage. If she was there then so was he. It was more than a little infuriating. Not only because he didn't have the sense to get out of the why once she started fighting, but because wherever he went a horde of the little bastards weren't far behind. Sure, she didn't have to chase down her targets while he was around, but he was always getting into trouble. On one occasion she'd had to rush an attack with an iron maiden so she could open a portal and drag him through. It had been to avoid a blast from an explosive that would have turned him to glass and he'd only been in Purgitorio for a few seconds before she opened another portal and thrown him out into the glassed street but ever since he'd been able to track her portals!

Tinkers!

She had decided then and there that if he was going to show up and distract her then she would give as good as she got. Bayonetta proceeded to use her newest spell, the doppelgänger her magic learned to copy when Coil had used his power, to torment him in return. It was an intangible representation that was more projection than actual copy. It allowed her to see and interact with others but unable to make physical contact. It could only be initiated by a dodge, not unlike her witch time, and wasn't physically there.

But she could use it to torment the Hero. Her very body was a weapon that men were weak to when she was in costume and deep down there somewhere, given the stumbles and humiliated blushing she coaxed out of him, he was clearly not immune.

Was it petty? Yes.

But it made her feel better.

So while the angels slowly encroached on the bay, she let off steam by making heroes stumble into poles.

________________________________________

On the day that Leviathan arrived Taylor dreamed of Paradiso overtaking the world. In it's familiar landscape the white mountain of Simurgh was missing but above the faint wailing was something else.

Upon waking she realized that the wailing wasn't from the dream, it was the Endbringer Siren and it had-not-stopped.

She had no time to dress, she rolled out of bed, her hair already sliding across her body to make her suit. The second it was done her guns appeared attached to her wrists and ankles and she rushed out the door. Capes, local and foreign were rushing toward a distant muster point but she didn't have the luxury of reaching it before Leviathan was upon them and rather than continue toward it she'd swerved behind a building and into Purgitorio to avoid a wave.

Only it wasn't Purgitorio. It was Paradiso.

The entire city was reflected in the sun washed golden realm and there in the place of the attacker was something else. A great pale colossus, gilt in gold with mechanical seeming armor and a human face. It's fingers, long and reaching are hollow weapons and above the Audito a vast halo of light.

_Temperantia_, Cardinal Virtue of _Temperence_.

"Oh, oh. Well that does explain some things."

Attached to it's body is a second figure, Leviathan is fused around the hourglass shape of it's waist, it's been taken over, hijacked. It's power is a blister of something energetic and bright powering the colossus as it flails wildly in Paradiso.

Bayonetta draws herself up, takes a deep breath, and summons Madama Butterfly to her. The demon comes, more than willing to lay this target low and together they attack.

________________________________________

Back in chaos, the fight wasn't going so well for the heroes. Leviathan tore through their ranks, tsunamis had all but destroyed the waterfront and the downtown are where the fighting was mostly taking place was unstable with rubble. Many heroes and villains alike had gone down and Armsmaster was regretting his hubris as he was battered around in the water. He'd had a plan, his nano thorn Halberd and a battle prediction program that had worked wonders so far. But it hadn't been nearly enough. It had looked for a moment like he was going to do it, the weapon had worked perfectly, slashing into its chest, but it hadn't even bled.

He'd been too close to dodge, but never, had he expected to be picked up by angels.

Or beasts that looked like one, in a world with the Simurgh he couldn't even begin to trust them. But what could he do? He had lost his arm and only the redundancies in his armor saved his life. They dragged him through an archway and into a paradise that might have been mistaken for heaven only to see it. There in the distance a monster bigger than even Leviathan looked over the replica with the city fused with the corpse of the beast itself.

This thing...

It was harrowing to realize that the reason they could never beat Leviathan because Leviathan wasn't even the enemy they needed to fight.

He was beginning to despair when he noticed the dancing black figure on the ground before it.

She never stopped moving, flickering into states that carried her from one side of the arena the other in the blink of an eye, her guns fired near constantly as she attacked a number of large fleshy lumps on the inside of it's arms and another layer of understanding occurred when he noticed her hair spinning into a lasso that summoned forth projections of limbs that grabbed the Titan, throwing it around like so many sacks of flour or grinding a dark threaded stiletto into it's face.

He didn't even think to move, he didn't stop to think he may be in danger. His gaze was trapped watching the woman combating a threat they hadn't even known existed and winning.

Armsmaster was so caught up watching that it took him a moment to comprehend when she stopped attacking and drew back. The Titan looked worse for wear as she raised her hands, rolled her hips in an unmistakably sexual manner and suddenly she was naked.

He ignored the reports of his armor reporting unusual bio signals as hair streamed away from her, rings circled her body blocking parts of it from view, but the rest made a massive portal in the air and out streamed a Dragon. Adorned in gems with a great ornate crown and butterfly wings behind, it savagely bit down on the shadow of Leviathan and tore it away. The Titan hemorrhaged light and gave an unearthly scream. The dragon turned its attention to it and even he had to look away as it tore the beast limb from limb. 

It died and a rain of gore.

He had to shake himself loose from his stupor when he noticed that the hair had contracted, retreating back to a figure that staggered to their knees before absorbing a multitude of halos and grabbing a golden record that it left behind.

Bayonetta, the infuriating woman who had been tormenting him for weeks, had defeated it without assistance from any other parahumans.

He ignored the sensors as his heart skipped another beat.

She took a moment to gather herself before climbing to her feet and turning around, only to come up short when she spotted him watching dumbstruck from beside the portal.

The dark haired, cat suited bombshell blinked, and then rolled her eyes, groaning loudly.

"Oh for the love of..." She grumbled to herself, for once not displaying the usual aloof personality as she limped closer. With a twist of her wrist she was holding a bright violet lollipop in the shape of a butterfly. It was in her mouth in an instant and she all but glowed for a second before she gained some color and shouldered by him toward the archway. Before he could say anything she began to twirl her hand in larger and larger circles until it produced a portal that fit the frame. When she stopped it stayed connected and there on the other side was the battered city.

Before he could even go to take a step she was behind him, pushing him through the gate way and into the real world as it snapped shut behind them. He barely had time to think before she tripped and stumbled into him. He caught her out of reflex and was left standing in the middle of a crater, in what had once been the financial district, with an unconscious hero in his lone arm and upon checking, the corpse of Leviathan right behind.

He wasn't sure what he should feel like just then. But as people started to converge on his position he got a better grip on his cargo and shouted for assistance.  
Whether he wanted to acknowledge it or not, she had fought something and won. Least he could do was get her to a hospital in one piece.

________________________________________

When Taylor woke, it was quiet.

She'd laid there for a good long moment trying to sense where she was before finally opening her eyes. The ceiling was made of plain off white panels that met an equally plain wall and in the gloom she identified her current location as the hospital. People shuffled around outside, but none came running so she assumed they didn't know she was awake. She took stock of her situation. Her body was heavy with exhaustion and a look into the sub space pocket at her risk told her her supply of items was low.

Then again, the fight with Temperantia hadn't been kind. It had been just that little bit more powerful than it should have been, what with Leviathan being a battery for the Audito. Still. A green sucker went into her mouth, mana defusing on her tongue as she sat up and just as abruptly stopped when she noticed the armor slumped in the chair beside her bed. Or more importantly, there was someone slumped inside the suit.

The helmet had been removed and the hero inside looked exhausted even as he slept. A domino mask prevented casual identification but dark hair plastered down by sweat and a neatly trimmed beard made it obvious who it was.

Bayonetta, Taylor, sighed heavily.

The leader of the local Protectorate didn't even notice and slept on, one side of his armor conspicuously missing.

Her relationship with the man was a complicated one. Sure, mocking him had been amusing. She'd found a certain amount of confidence in herself that resulted from playing the part of Femme Fatale and over time it had become an almost necessary way to let off steam around other people.

She hadn't really stopped to consider what it might be doing to someone like the reclusive shut in of a tinker in the visitors chair and she was painfully aware of how old she was in the real world. In a way, she felt bad for leading him on, but maybe it was time to break that habit. She had angels to hunt and magic to learn and he was a Hero who she couldn't allow to be dragged down by the scandal should it ever come out how old she really was.

Still, as she stood from the bed she retrieved one last item from sub-space and once she was done, she left, stepping into Purgitorio and leaving with all the presence of a ghost or a dream.

________________________________________

Much much later Armsmaster would wake to a beeping com link, an empty room and the lingering scent of witch hazel and rosemary.

Of course he wouldn't notice the other thing left behind until he gets a video call from an agitated Dragon and directed to a photo on PHO of when he left the hospital with a big red lipstick print on his cheek.

In spite of the rumors and taunting he doesn't say anything even as he finally wipes it away.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So, that's a thing. Reminder: I didn't really do more than a casual Edit before this was posted so it might be rough in some places but I guess you all know by now that I'm really bad at that. I'm not going to continue this one. I had some vague Ideas on how to proceed including A confrontation with the Fallen who were aware of the Lumen Sages. Also it's an interesting thing to think that the endbringers might just be a front for other things to take over. I can see Ziz being a manifestation of Prudence in this particular case and her fingers being in Coil's pies, but hey ho. XD
> 
> As is the norm lately, I'll be posting this to my Ao3 account in the name Mage-Alia so don't be surprised if it looks familiar.


End file.
